


strike a match on all my wasted time

by charleybradburies



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Relationships, Break Up, Campfires, Camping, Dogs, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Healthy Relationships, House Stark, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Modern Westeros, POV Sansa Stark, Post-Break Up, Request Meme, Road Trips, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Siblings, Sister-Sister Relationship, Sisters, Social Media, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt, Uncle-Niece Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 08:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/pseuds/charleybradburies
Summary: Arya and Sansa spend some time in the woods up North following Sansa's breakup.Prompt 5 of a Tumblr Prompt List: Write a story with a campfire, lightning bugs, and a note.[title from taylor swift's "picture to burn"]





	strike a match on all my wasted time

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I only posted their first day - the idea I ran with was them having an entire weekend away, but this very quickly got a lot longer than expected and I decided to cut it off, at least for now. 
> 
> Also, I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've written Benjen, so I hope he seems in character.
> 
> Oh, and, as always, please comment and kudos!

Despite her friends' best efforts, Sansa holes herself up in her room the day she finds the note, trying and failing not to imagine what her now-ex-boyfriend must be doing - on that trip to Oldtown that significant others weren't allowed on, whether there had been plans in place or not. She bitterly supposes it doesn't really matter whether your girlfriend can come if you've already got some intern to warm your hotel bed. Regardless, he'd get the view from the Hightower lighthouse, get to watch the boats as people took them out for business and for pleasure. Perhaps he’d take one out himself. No one was stopping him, Sansa least of all.

She was proud of herself for actually ending it when she discovered Harry’s unfaithfulness, at least. It was an improvement over sticking it out. But it didn’t help the ways she felt about the matter.

~~

An alert pops up on her phone, a new Instagram post from Arya. Glad for any momentary happy distraction, she clicks only to be...slightly less happy.

 _Well, no,_ she reprimands herself, _that's not totally true._ It's a lovely little video, of a situation she's happy Arya's in, but Arya's shirtless boyfriend cheerfully roughhousing with Nymeria is a bit...too much, for the moment. “If your dog doesn't love him, he's not the one,” reads a sweet caption, followed by a somewhat more Arya-like trio of emojis: a dog, a cup of tea, and a pair of scissors. 

_Subtle._

Sansa snuggles into Lady's side and cries some more. Harry barely fell short of hating dogs. Regardless of how sweet and mild-mannered Lady almost always was, he wanted precious little to do with her, and Lady usually obliged. 

Sansa likes the photo and saves it, planning to look for their mother's response later, but accidentally clicks through to the comments, too, only to see that even with notifications on she’s not nearly the first to find it: half a dozen likes already and a few comments: Robb's replied with some eyes, like he means to question her implication, Jeyne’s replied to _him_ with fire emojis, and Rickon’s personally tagged Gendry in his string of 1st place medal emojis.

Sansa’s phone rings while she’s considering what she could say, and she groans. 9/10 chance it’s Arya about to ask for Harry’s address so she can give him a send-off like she gave Joffrey, and as much as part of her wants to see her sister wipe the floor with another man who’s wronged them, it’s not really going to change anything. 

_It won’t change that he wanted some poor intern more than me._

It is Arya, but on answering, it’s not what Sansa expects.

“Hey. How are you? And don’t you dare say okay or fine or some shit like that.” 

“I’m crying into Lady’s shoulder and trying not to be mind-blowingly jealous of your luck,” she replies honestly, and cringes, because she _hears_ the bitterness in her voice. _She’s_ lucky that Arya answers without any of her own.

“Well, there’s only one Gendry, so disregarding the Lady part, that’s you and everyone else who’s into men right there. I’ll call Bran later, see how he's doing.”

Sansa can’t help a laugh. It might be her first since she found the note from Harry’s _other_ woman earlier this week. 

“Got plans this weekend?” Arya asks, her voice suddenly softer. 

Sansa sighs. “I _did_. But no, it’s just me and Lady and whatever keeps me from running into the forest because modern society isn’t worth it.”

Arya laughs heartily. “Great timing, then. Come run into the forest with me.”

Sansa pauses.

“Wait, what?” 

“Up North. Like when we used to go visit Uncle Benjen when we were kids. Some time away from everything. It’ll be fun.”

~~

Arya pulls up outside Sansa’s apartment building late the next morning, in a pickup truck that Sansa doesn’t recognize. Marg is stuffing things - that Sansa most likely won’t need - into a backpack she acquired from Loras shortly after being informed Sansa and Arya were going to go camping, and Sansa is just finishing up with making breakfast. 

Nymeria bursts out the car door the moment Arya opens it, rushing across the parking lot, and Lady whines for her sister at the window until she’s close enough to smell, at which point she goes to sit at the door. Marg pulls it open before Arya’s even at the door, and Sansa can hear the littermates knock right into each other, happily starting to roll around in the living room as though they hadn’t seen in each other in months, despite it having been less than a week since the last family dinner.

“Ooh,” Marg coos a moment later, and Sansa turns to face the door to see Arya holding a bag of cookies from Hot Pie’s.

“Sans gets first choice,” she declares, giving Margaery a look of warning. 

“I had to recruit Hot Pie _personally_ , so I only got a few. And we’re saving a double chocolate.”

“Oh, are we _staying_ at Uncle Benjen’s?" Sansa asks. "I thought you meant camping.” 

“I mean, if you want to, we can. The plan is to stop by for a bit and then go be a bit more outdoorsy on our own, but it’s kinda _your_ weekend. I’m sure he’d let us stay longer if we asked.”

Marg groans. “Doesn’t he like, not have electricity? Sounds pretty outdoorsy to me.”

Arya chuckles. “He has electricity, Margaery. Just not a lot of appliances and things like that. It’s rustic, and fun.”

Marg shrugs.

“I’ll stick to hotels. Gardening involves more than enough bugs for me,” she replies. "Camping is _not_ the kind of adventure for yours truly."

Sansa sets breakfast on the table, clearing her throat and gesturing to the both of them to join her. 

They’re only momentarily interrupted - by Lady sneezing, driving her sister away and onto the couch - but then Marg and Arya come share a relatively quiet breakfast with her. Arya and Marg are, at their most amiable, not friends, but they seem to be in agreement that keeping Sansa headache-free is important, so while it’s awkward, the three of them, all trying to have a conversation without mentioning recent events or things they disagree on, they do manage. 

~~

The sisters set off as soon as the dogs settle excitedly in the backseat, with their backpacks in the truck bed and Uncle Benjen’s cookie in the glove compartment with multiple bottles of whiskey and a large lunchbox. Realizing how far forward the driver’s seat is, Sansa realizes the truck must be Gendry’s, and smiles, only a bit bitterly. 

“So, music, or venting?” Arya asks before Sansa can tease her, and Sansa pauses. 

“Softish music that I could vent over?” she requests quietly. 

Arya nods, and switches on the radio, then turns it down. It’s some alt-rock type of thing that strikes her as something Rickon would like, that she’d never choose to listen to on her own, but it’s not bad. 

“Let me know if I should change it. This is the only station we ever put on, but I’m sure there’s something better fitted for you out there,” Arya offers, then pulls out of the spot, stopping when she’s parallel to the building to point out that Marg is waving goodbye to them. 

Sansa stays quiet the majority of the drive anyway, looking out the window at the summer scenery as Arya drives North. She sighs heavily a few times. Most of them, the dogs give more response than Arya, but Sansa catches her eyes a few times. She’s glad for the dearth of the questions: Arya could be nosy when she felt like it, but not being expected to talk is a godsend. Sansa’s pretty sure she’d start crying again if she tried.

~~

The next time Arya asks a question of her is when she pulls over at some small gas station somewhere in the Lonely Hills and looks over at Sansa before hopping out.

“I was told there were snacks in the glove compartment, but I’m not sure what’s in there. Do you care to take a look?”

“You don’t know what’s in there?” Sansa chuckles.

“It’s not technically _my_ truck. Shut up,” Arya says, blushing barely enough to notice, and Sansa chuckles again.

“It looked like mainly whiskey. I didn’t open the lunchbox.” 

“Ah. Well, do you want anything in particular? I’m gonna grab something when I pay. We should be at Uncle Benjen’s by dinner, though.”

Arya undoes her belt and hops out, and Sansa does the same.

“Maybe just a pop? I’ll let the girls have a pee break while you’re in there.”

“Two pops, coming right up.” 

Arya locks the truck, shutting her door and heading towards the small store.

“Do you have money?” Sansa calls out, realizing she hadn’t grabbed anything, and Arya turns around. Sansa just barely catches her, walking backwards and laughing, as she’s opening the door to the backseat.

“In my pockets, genius,” Arya calls back. Sansa gently rolls her eyes and opens the door for the dogs. 

Nymeria jumps down and zooms past Sansa, over to the nearest patch of grass. Lady waits to be leashed up and told to hop down, but bounds around once they’re off the gravel of the parking lot. They‘re only outside for a few minutes, but even that fresh Northern air is nice. As much as Sansa enjoyed the South, she was still of the North, and when they’re on the road again and she’s leaning her head out the window, face to face with a summer snow, she’s as proud of it as ever. 

~~

They reach their uncle’s cabin before dinnertime, even earlier than Arya had anticipated, a small, lovely home he considers himself lucky to have just about to himself. Usually, Sansa would disagree, but today she understands the desire to share with only a dog. 

He’s chopping wood outside when Arya pulls up, and stops with a smile when he knows they can see him. Arya grabs the cookie and hops out the truck as he’s walking over. This time, both Nymeria and Lady willingly hop out when Sansa opens the backseat door. 

“We brought a gift to the Gift!” Arya calls, holding up the bag with the cookie as she’s approaching him. 

“I see at least two!” Benjen calls back, pulling her into a hug as soon as she’s close enough, then reaching out for Sansa and cocking his head to draw her over. Arya opens her own arm and welcomes her in, and in a nice twist, even lets Sansa put her head on her shoulder for a second, before Sansa really leans into their uncle. She’s held off on tears for the whole day, but just at that moment of comfort, she feels them coming back. Only a few insist on falling, but Benjen holds her close and Arya rubs her back and she’s...okay, for a minute. 

“It’s his loss,” Arya whispers towards her, before Benjen pulls back from the two of them, holding their shoulders in a way very much like their father. 

“Now, come inside and let’s have a nice dinner. You deserve it...and I deserve that cookie.”

~~

They don’t spend very long at Benjen's place, although he is sure to be clear that they’re welcome to the guest room. He’s set out a few more bowls near his own dog’s, and it’s when he’s filling a couple of them with food that the old hound realizes he’s got company and pulls himself off the couch to say hello. The dogs eat quickly then go relax together by one of the large windows. 

After being sure everyone is sufficiently fed - and packing the girls a sealed bag for the rest of their weekend - Benjen insists on retrieving their very large family tent, even though they’ve got sleeping bags and a small tent already. They hop back into the truck as the sun is dipping below some of the mountains in the distance, an area map unfolded in Sansa’s lap.

“So, I didn’t even ask earlier but, do I even want to know how sweetly you had to ask to get the truck for a whole weekend?”

“I just asked, smartass. No _special_ favors required, if that’s what you’re asking. Gendry doesn’t have work until Tuesday, so he doesn’t need it or anything.”

“Oh,” Sansa musters as reply, and she can hear the shock in her voice and read it in Arya’s face.

“Is that...bad?”

“No, I’m just...if he’s free, that means you chose to spend time with _me_ instead of him.”

Arya’s eyes go wide. 

“Yeah, well, he and I picked each other but...just because we didn’t get to pick our siblings doesn’t mean we as partners always get to come first.”

Sansa has no response for that, and naturally, Arya falls back to being so very _Arya_ to break the tension. 

“I mean, to be fair, _I_ normally do _anyway_ , so-”

Sansa cuts her off with a light shove and a groan, laughing all the while. 

“Ugh! Don’t tell me that.”

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Arya retorts in a sing-songy voice as she reverses back onto the gravel road in front of their uncle’s.

“I am _not_ the one who brought up _special favors_ , thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” Arya says flatly, and Sansa distracts herself from laughter by looking at the map, navigating the rather short distance to the specific campsite their family prefers. 

It’s been a while since Sansa joined one of the camping trips, and neither she nor Arya are used to being without others in the family, but the two sisters easily pick up what tasks should be completed before they call it a night - laying out their sleeping bags and blankets in the back of the truck instead of setting up a tent, in good part because they’re adults who can do what they want.

Yet another category of things Harry didn’t like was anything involving a wilderness kind of dirty, and Sansa agrees just enough with the sentiment that she’d never argued about it, but there’s something very freeing, this trip, about the dirt and smoke and the lack of cell service. Enjoying the wild was, for Sansa, all about the company. Perhaps that’s why she’d only ever come up North like this with her family. Better company. She’d never let Arya hear her say that aloud, though. 

Not today, at least. 

~~

They’re sitting on adjacent logs, quietly appreciating the flames of the fire Arya had started in the pit, when Arya announces that there’s more. 

“So, I’m totally, like, pretending to be Mom this weekend. But I brought two specific fire-related activities for us.”

Sansa snorts.

“Oh, yeah, fire-related activities. That sounds like Mom.”

“Shut up, you knew what part I meant,” Arya whines back.

“Yeah, yeah. So, what’d you bring?”

“We’ve got something _intentionally_ therapeutic, and then something that’s...well, therapeutic by virtue of being awesome.”

“...you brought marshmallows, didn’t you?”

“I...may have.”

Sansa chuckles. “And the other thing?”

“An activity from Gendry’s therapist, to help with letting go of shit.”

She pauses, almost like she’s wondering if she’d said too much, but then she continues, if a bit more gently than before.

“You can pick whichever. I figured we’d do one tonight before bed and then the other tomorrow.” 

Sansa quietly considers them for a moment, ultimately deciding that now is as good a time as any. It was just her and Arya and the sleeping dogs, the crackling fire and the chatter of the Northern woods filling their senses and surroundings. It was time, wasn’t it?

“How about we do the therapy thing and then just do fun things tomorrow?” she asks after a few moments, and Arya grins. She hops up and goes over to the truck. Nymeria rises from her nap for the sole purpose of following her, and gets some good pets for her troubles, disregarding Lady’s grumble at the loss of her napping buddy. 

Arya returns a moment later with a small pad of paper, two pens with their father’s law firm name and number on them, and one of the bottles of whiskey. Arya gently sets the bottle down on the ground, tipped against the log that Sansa’s sitting on. _Top shelf, too,_ Sansa realizes. That’s out of character for Arya and Gendry, but that just means it was purchased for the occasion. 

“Okay, so: you write down, well, whatever you want, I guess, but something, and then you throw it in the fire and let it burn.”

_See you in Oldtown, babe. We’ve got Room 21 at the Hightower._

She can't help that first thought.

“So, tell me something stupid about Harry that we're gonna burn, and you write down something else, and then you'll put them in the fire. It's supposed to be cleansing, so I hope it helps. The original idea was a letter, so if you want to do a whole letter, I can putz around for however long you need me to.”

Sansa feels herself tear up, but she smiles, and presses the paper down onto her thigh. 

“I think I’m good, actually.”

Arya’s eyes are wide when Sansa stands up, note already written; she holds it to one of the flames on the edge, watching as a spark catches. Arya snorts. 

“Let go already,” she demands, and Sansa does, dropping the paper into the pit with a sigh. 

“There,” she says, with force she probably didn’t need, force that’s about to bring tears she doesn’t want. 

“There,” she reiterates, weakly. Arya’s silent for a moment, and then steps closer. Sansa half-expects her to attempt some gesture of physical comfort, but instead she presses one of the remaining pieces of paper up to Sansa’s forearm and clicks open the pen still in her hand.

“Tell me what I’m writing.”

~~

They’ve burned a dozen papers and downed about a quarter of the whiskey by the time they decide to let the fire die, the sunlight nearly gone. Sansa had been the one to insist on using the cups their uncle had packed for them, so she’s the one to rinse them out, though she’s slower than her sober self. Arya signals the dogs up into the truck bed, and changes out of her jeans into sweatpants with her dance school’s name and logo emblazoned on them.

“I half expected those to be Gendry’s, too,” Sansa teases, and Arya snorts.

“You don’t really think his pants would fit me, do you? Well, in the “what’s mine is yours” sense, I guess these are his, too, but that’s not the fairest comparison.”

Sansa chuckles. 

“What’s yours is his, too, huh?”

Arya’s thinking of something to shoot back at her - probably a sexual joke that’ll make Sansa blush a bit - when the fire sputters and Sansa jumps. Arya just laughs, and then a moment later, gasps. Sansa rolls her eyes, and then Arya speaks again, full of glee. 

“Sans, look, lightning bugs!”

Indeed, when Sansa takes her focus off of her sister, there they are, flickering all around them. Not caring for how silly it might seem, she devolves into laughter as she starts trying to catch them, and Arya happily joins her. She has no idea how long they spend like that, clapping their hands in the attempt as nightfall finally comes, but eventually they do decide to get up into their sleeping bags. 

They climb up into the truck bed, cuddling up to Nymeria and Lady, and fall asleep admiring the stars, warm and content.


End file.
